


i'll be the garden

by yasgorl



Category: Captain America (Movies) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Image, Insecurity, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:17:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yasgorl/pseuds/yasgorl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian doesn't think Chris would give him a chance in a million years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll be the garden

**Author's Note:**

> Sebastian is 16, Chris is 17.

“Hey. Pssst!”

A miniscule, balled up piece of notebook paper hits the back of Sebastian’s shoulder and patters to the floor below. Sebastian’s fingers tighten around the hardback cover of his American History textbook. He scowls and hunches down in his seat.

“Hey,” the voice says behind him, persistent. Someone else snickers, low and mean. Sebastian’s ears burn. There were four people in the room when he’d entered, ancient Mr. Edwards at his desk near the window, currently nodding off to sleep, and three senior guys huddled in a semi-circle in the back.

Sebastian knew who they were, just like everyone else in the school, but he doubted he’d ever been similarly registered in their brains. He’d lobbed off having to leave with his 6th period French class on a field trip for the rest of the day, citing a queasy stomach, but mostly hoping he could escape having to sit alone at their destination, or worse, have Madame Rowling attempt to keep him company out of pity, like she’d done before.

“Hey, kid,” the voice says.

Sebastian grits his teeth and turns stiffly in his seat, deciding to face his fate. The guy sitting closest to him is leaning over the top of his desk. He smiles wide when Sebastian meets his eyes and jerks his head up in acknowledgement.

“Wanna make a run for it?” the guy - _Chris_ , Sebastian thinks - asks, voice low.

He indicates Mr. Edwards' sleeping form with a quick flick of his index finger, smiling slyly. One of his buddies shifts behind him in his seat. Sebastian knows the game they’re playing, and it isn’t out of any particular interest in getting him to leave with them. If they all ditch then no one can be left behind to squeal on the others.

They’re assuming he’s like them, in here for some minor disciplinary reason or another, and not because he wanted a quiet hour to himself. Being practically invisible to guys like them is going to seem infinitely enviable if he gets on their shit list for being a stickler to the rules.

Sebastian shrugs finally then ducks down, grabbing the backpack at his feet. He hears them scrambling out of their chairs behind him, as quietly as they can. A desk rasps across the floor and they all freeze. Mr. Edwards is still oblivious, salt and pepper beard at his chin nearly touching his chest.

They move a lot faster than Sebastian, who walks as quickly as he can behind them in the empty hallway. He’s pulling at his backpack strap, head tucked down, when he nearly collides with Chris, who’s stopped in his tracks and turned back towards Sebastian.

“Whoa,” Chris says, breathing out a laugh. He grabs at Sebastian’s forearm to steady him, glancing down with an easy smile. He’s a good few inches taller, lean muscle evident in his arms and broad chest. His fingers dig into Sebastian’s soft flesh.

“Thanks for that back there.”

“No problem,” Sebastian says, feeling instantly tongue tied over two words. His face feels hot. Chris’ hand feels like a brand, or a live wire, making his skin buzz. With the full weight of Chris’ attention on him, he can’t quite remember his earlier disgruntlement.

“Alright, man,” Chris says. He claps a hand once over Sebastian’s shoulder companionably. “See you around.”

*

Sebastian doubts Chris means anything by it, but he has enough time on the walk home to turn the few words they’d exchanged around over and over again in his head. He rides out the first few heart racing moments afterwards indulging himself in a tumultuous jumble of half-formed fantasies; Chris acknowledging him in the hallway the next day maybe, clapping him on the shoulder again, dragging him to his friends group at lunch, inviting him to one of his football games. By the time Sebastian gets home he’s sweating and breathing hard from the walk under the hot afternoon sun and he’s run through a million scenarios in his mind.

Sebastian scrambles for his house key and unlocks the front door in a rush. The interior is hushed and dimly lit, his mother still at work for another two hours. He forgoes his usual stop at the kitchen for a snack and takes the stairs to his room. He shuts the door behind him and locks it, dumps his backpack at the foot of his dresser and sits at the edge of his bed. He shuts his eyes. In his mind’s eye the hands scrabbling at his belt aren’t his own, they’re Chris’, and Chris is kneeling before him, that same sly grin tugging at the edges of his lips.

In a few, frantic strokes Sebastian’s hard enough that he’s biting down on his bottom lip. He reaches for the lotion on his nightstand and slicks his palm up, and when it returns it’s Chris’ big hand wrapping around his cock. He squeezes hard at his swollen dick, imagining how tight and hard Chris could grip him. Then he’s making a small sound, curling over, as his balls draw tight and his dick shoots.

Sebastian studies himself in the bathroom mirror afterwards as he washes up, the pale round reflection of his face. If it were even a possibility - if Chris were into guys - Sebastian wouldn’t have a chance in hell. He’s seen the girls Chris goes for, tall and built like runway models. Even Chris' friends looked like they belonged more in an Abercrombie & Fitch ad than sitting in 3rd period Trigonometry.

He pushes the thought away and sits down at his desk. Then he pulls out his homework for the night.

*

They go to an action flick on Friday; Mark and Ben and Sebastian. They’re half an hour early so they get center seats in the back row. They’ve been pals since Sebastian moved to town a few years back, bonding over their mutual social exclusion. They had different interests but it helped that none of them laughed when Sebastian talked about wanting to go to Hollywood, or when Mark babbled about wanting to work for NASA.

Afterwards, Sebastian stays until the end of the credits, reading through the different names and roles, all the way through the miscellaneous crew. He takes the side exit out instead of the main. It leads down a narrow alleyway to the front of the cinema quicker than the interior maze of the theater.

He pulls the door open, not paying attention to his surroundings until it’s too late to reach behind and slip back inside.  It shuts behind him with a dull click. Chris is standing in the alleyway between the theater and the rest of the shopping plaza. He’s smoking, leaning back against a wall with one hand in his pocket and the other at his lips. He’s clearly on his break, and he somehow manages to make even the theater's cruddy uniform with its red collared shirt and cheap black pants look cool, like he’d just stepped out of a catalog.

“Hey,” Chris says, casually.

Sebastian had been expecting Chris to ignore him, which might have been infinitely better, so he could slip past and pretend they’d never seen each other.

“Hi,” Sebastian replies.

“What’d you see?” Chris asks. He nods his head back at the exit, then turns to the side and lets out a thin stream of smoke.

“Um, a movie,” Sebastian says, stupidly. His face burns up immediately.

“No shit,” Chris says, but he smiles good-naturedly, so Sebastian suddenly feels like he’s in on the joke and a little less like he wants the earth to open and swallow him up.

Chris extends the cigarette in hand. It takes Sebastian a second to get that Chris is offering.

“Um, sure,” Sebastian says. He steps slowly to Chris’ side, and takes the cigarette from Chris’ fingers gingerly. Despite his best attempt not to inhale Sebastian ends up coughing up his first hit.

“Hey there, easy,” Chris says. His big hand lands on Sebastian’s back, and Sebastian’s sure he must be beet red by now and looking fucking ridiculous.

“Here, like this,” Chris says. He swipes the cigarette from Sebastian’s fingers and demonstrates. Smoke curls up in a lazy spiral from his lips.

“Just keep it in your mouth,” Chris says, looking Sebastian straight in the eyes. Sebastian feels like he might burst into flames on the spot at the implication. Chris’ grin goes feral. His hand ducks Sebastian’s reach when he tries to grab the cigarette again, and instead, he brings it right up to Sebastian’s lips.

“Suck,” Chris says. Sebastian’s mouth opens, half in shock, and he obeys, wrapping his lips carefully around the tip and following Chris’ example. Chris’ eyes focus on Sebastian’s mouth, the thick sweep of his eyelashes turning downwards.

Sebastian manages not to choke this time, even though the smoke disappears in a sudden puff instead of Chris’ more practiced movement.

He turns back from exhaling, a little breathless, and weirdly proud. Chris stares down at him silently, and then the moment seems to slow down exactly like a movie reel. He reaches out, tucks his hand beneath Sebastian’s chin and tips his head back.

“This okay?” Chris murmurs. His big shoulders seem to block out everything else, the sheer size of him right up against Sebastian, pressing him back against the theater's rough exterior wall.

Sebastian manages a jerky nod, unsure he isn’t vividly hallucinating. His stomach squeezes tight. Then Chris is kissing him - a full on, real kiss - ducking down and pressing his lips to Sebastian’s. The moment draws out. Sebastian makes a muffled, weak sound, and Chris pulls back long enough for Sebastian to gasp in a quick breath before he returns. This time his tongue presses at the line of Sebastian’s lips, until they part open so Chris can kiss him fully. An electric shock of pleasure jolts through Sebastian's body at the hot, filthy slide of Chris’ tongue against his. His hands come up to grasp at Chris’ strong forearms.

“That’s it,” Chris says, breathily, drawing back for all of a second. Sebastian doesn’t quite know what he means, if he’s just saying it so Sebastian doesn’t totally spook, or because it’s what he probably says to every person he makes out with, way more than the handful of childish pecks and amateur half-kisses Sebastian’s had, so few he could count them on one hand. Then Chris cups Sebastian’s jaw with his fingers and kisses him again, deep and soft and sure, leading the way.

Sebastian’s dick perks up in his shorts. He makes a weak sound against Chris’ lips. Chris draws back. His lips are redder than before and Sebastian’s feels similarly marked, swollen and tender. Chris rubs a thumb at Sebastian’s wet lips, breathing hard from his open mouth. A sudden, muffled electronic beep from his pocket draws him away. He rolls his eyes, reaching down to retrieve his phone.

“Break’s over,” he says, with an easy smile.

Sebastian blinks up at him.

“Um, okay,” he says, at a loss for words. Then, “See you later?”

Chris looks up from his phone, distracted, like he hadn’t just reached into Sebastian’s world and turned everything he thought he knew upside down.

“Yeah, sure,” he says easily. A different ring sounds out and this time Chris swipes at the screen, and holds it up to his ear. He nods once at Sebastian and turns away, a cheery ‘What’s up,” sounding out as he strides down the alleyway towards the theater’s front.

Sebastian watches him leave like a chump; dick tenting his shorts, skin buzzing and breathless. As soon as Chris rounds the corner and disappears, Sebastian turns, eyes scanning the ground where they’d been standing.

After a moment he finds it; the stub of their shared, discarded cigarette.

He bends down and picks it up, then sticks it carefully in his pocket.

*

Sebastian sees Chris on Tuesday during P.E. He’s one of the last few stragglers completing their mile run before they can return to the shelter of their air conditioned gym, the hot afternoon sun beating down on them, dust from the dirt track billowing in soft clouds under their heels. Chris is stretching with his fellow varsity football players in a patch of lawn near the bleachers. Sebastian keeps his head down as he passes, violently hoping to go unrecognized. He’s suddenly, morbidly aware of every unfit part of his body. A shout of laughter breaks out in the group and Sebastian nearly stumbles as he jogs past, so mired in his anxiety that he’s almost sure for a second against any logical reason it must be about him; Chris relaying Friday night as a joke, twisting it so it was Sebastian who had approached and tried to kiss him and in the story Chris had turned him away, disgusted.

Sebastian’s so grateful to finish the lap he nearly collapses. He’s sure every eye is on him as he enters the gym, like somehow in the span of time it took him to walk over, the rumor he’d imagined had taken on a life of its own, transmitted through some telekinetic link.

“Hey, you okay?” Mark asks, looking up from the stack of cards he’s laying out on the gym floor between him and Ben. Coach Day could care less what they do for the rest of the period as long as they complete their mile. A basketball crashes against the wall behind them with a dull thump.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, still breathing hard. Sweat trickles in a line down his back. He picks at the hem of his shirt.

“Hey, uh, have you heard anything? About me?”

Ben snorts.

“Who would be saying anything about you?” he asks, pushing at the bridge of his glasses as he looks up. He’s got a lazy eye which stares somewhere to Sebastian’s left, so his gaze is always slightly off.

“Nothing. Nevermind,” Sebastian says quickly.

He settles on the floor next to Mark.

*

Sebastian’s walking home on Friday when he hears Chris calling his name. He’s half sure he’s imagined it at first, until he turns to see Chris in the driver’s seat of a slate grey Scion, slowing to a crawl. Chris’ left elbow is resting at the open window.

“Need a lift?” Chris calls out.

Sebastian stops in his tracks and the car does too, idling in the street. It’s nearly seven at night. Sebastian had stayed behind to shoot an extra scene for Film class. From the look of it, Chris had been leaving from football practice.

He’d nearly written off last week as an extremely vivid hallucination, if it weren’t for the stub of cigarette he still had at home, sealed in a sandwich bag and stuck in his drawer like some serial killer creep’s murder trophy. In the end he’d figured guys like Chris probably went around kissing a lot of people. When you looked that good and were that popular, he doubted anyone said no that often. And making out with saps like Sebastian on his smoke break had probably been less than an afterthought.

“Come on. I won’t bite,” Chris says when Sebastian hesitates. He gives him that familiar, wide, wicked smile, and Sebastian’s stomach leaps predictably in response.

Sebastian's hand nearly slips on the car handle getting in, sweaty with sudden nerves. If he notices, Chris doesn’t let on. The car slides forward into motion as soon as Sebastian settles in his seat.

“You’re gonna have to direct me from here,” Chris says, once they get to the stoplight.

“You know where Meyer’s Park is?” Sebastian asks.

Chris’ eyes flick down to the backpack still clutched in Sebastian’s lap.

His brow furrows.

“Oh yeah, you live near there?”

“Like two blocks up, yeah,” Sebastian says. He tries to relax his death grip.

“Should be easy,” Chris says, drawing out the last word. “I take my dog there all the time.”

“Oh. That’s cool,” Sebastian says, stupidly. He bites down on his tongue.

“Yep. You got one?” Chris asks. His eyes are steady on the road.

“A dog? No. My mom won’t let me,” Sebastian says. He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. _Hi, I’m five years old and my mom won’t let me._

Chris laughs.

“I feel you. That sucks, bro.”

Sebastian forces out a silent exhale through his nose. By some miracle Chris hasn’t stopped the car and told him to get his giant dork ass out.

“Well if you ever feel like it you can come and hang out with mine. He needs like fifty walks a day anyways. We’ll probably see you one of these days at Meyer’s.”

“Um, okay. Sure,” Sebastian says. It’s probably an empty invitation, is his first thought, the kind of thing people say for polite conversation, and not because they wanted to sit down and pencil in a date. Except Chris turns to look at him when they stop again at another light, clearly expecting an answer.

“Like, sometime soon?” Sebastian asks.

“Yeah. How about right now,” Chris says easily. “You got something planned?”

Sebastian doesn't have anything planned other than dinner and falling asleep playing video games on the floor in the living room.

“No, not really.”

“Cool,” Chris says, and he turns the steering wheel so they’re changing lanes, heading in a different direction.

*

Chris’ house is only ten minutes away, but it might as well be the other side of town. He retrieves a blank white card from his wallet and has to swipe it at the outer gate so they can drive in, the road curving in a gentle slope as they ride through the neighborhood.

They’re the first home when they get there. Lights switch on automatically as Chris makes his way to the kitchen, Sebastian trailing behind. There’s a flat, widescreen TV in the living room and a large pool in the yard visible through the back windows, lit up with underwater lights.

“We got Coke, Sprite, Gatorade, water if you want it,” Chris calls out, pulling the fridge door open with one hand. His tank does nothing to hide the muscle of his arms, the curve of his firm chest showing through the gaping sleeve. Sebastian settles nervously at the kitchen island, gripping at the cool marble countertop, then trying to relax his rigid stance.

“Coke’s fine,” he says.

“Classic,” Chris replies, reaching into the fridge, shorts stretching easily to show the swell of his toned ass. “Think fast.”

Sebastian catches the tossed can with both hands.

Chris makes a face not a second later.

“Oh shit, that’s probably gonna blow.”

“No, it’s okay,” Sebastian says quickly. He sets it down on the counter. “I’ll just wait a second.”

Chris groans dramatically, shutting the fridge door.

“I’m such an ass.”

Chris says it so fervently Sebastian can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but it makes Sebastian uneasy, and quick to try and smooth everything over.

“No, I mean it, it’s fine.” Sebastian assures him. He taps at the top of the can like that might help, then searches quickly for a change in subject. “So, um, where’s your dog?”

Chris smiles at him like he’s said something funny. He sets his drink down on the island and approaches Sebastian, who does nothing but blink up at him, rooted to the spot. Chris stops an inch away. Sebastian’s heart leaps to his throat, and his hand goes tight on the counter again as Chris brings his hand up to cup the side of Sebastian’s face. He pauses like he’s waiting for Sebastian to say something. Then he leans down, tilting Sebastian’s face up gently with his hand and kisses him again, like he did in that empty alleyway the week before. It’s somehow even better this time, like the days in between with Sebastian replaying and reasoning the experience in his head had worn it out like a faded picture. He’d known kissing was a _thing_ on some level, but he never thought he’d like it this much. He honest to god moans when Chris moves against him and presses inside his mouth, a feeling low in his gut drawing tight as their tongues meet.

Sebastian has to pull back to breathe, and he realizes his fingers are clutching at Chris’ arms again.

Chris smiles down at him lazily.

“That’s nice,” Chris says. His thumb presses against the swell of Sebastian’s bottom lip. “You’re a good kisser, man.”

Sebastian flushes.

“Really? I mean, thanks,” he says.

“Sure thing,” Chris says. He looks completely composed, looking down at Sebastian like he does this every day, which he probably does, Sebastian thinks, while Sebastian feels like he’s been tossed out of a passing tornado.

“Come on,” Chris says, stepping back. He grabs his Gatorade then opens an overhead cabinet and rummages inside. “Let’s go watch some TV.”

*

The sofa in the family room takes up most of the space. It could easily seat ten more people, shaped like a box with a missing side, with massive cushions and deep seats. Chris sits at one corner and thumbs the television on with the remote. Sebastian waffles for a second, making as if to take a seat nearby that would leave enough space between them to fit a third person, but Chris reaches out and tugs him down, slinging an arm over Sebastian’s shoulders. Sebastian lands half in Chris’ lap with a small exhaled  _oof_. Chris doesn’t seem to notice, eyes riveted to the screen as he flips channels in a blur of passing images.

Sebastian’s suddenly, intently aware of every part of their bodies where they touch, and the knowledge of how his own physique fails to measure up wells up overwhelmingly in the forefront of his mind, feeling how hard and firm Chris is under him. His heart pounds in his chest, and he stares without absorbing anything as Chris settles on a channel, the implausibility of Chris’ interest hitting him all over again.

Chris settles further in his seat, pulling Sebastian closer so he has no choice but to curl against Chris’ side. Chris’ hands rubs at Sebastian’s arm absently. The touch is both soothing and exciting, stroking at the heat low in Sebastian’s gut, making him want to squirm.

“I love this part,” Chris says, eyes still glued to the screen. “Watch.”

Yellow and orange flames burst across the screen in an explosion. The scene cuts to another character dangling off the edge of a building. Sebastian can barely register what short dialogue is exchanged as Chris’ hand moves down to pet at Sebastian’s side. Now he really squirms, mortified as Chris’ hand finds the soft swell of his stomach.

“Hey,” Chris says softly. He doesn’t look away from the screen. “Do you mind?”

Chris indicates something with a nod of his head. Sebastian looks down. Chris is hard, a visible bulge at his crotch. The hand not at Sebastian’s side is palm flat against Chris’ stomach, like he’s really waiting for Sebastian’s permission.

“No?” Sebastian says, anticipation and confusion warring in his mind.

Chris' hand rubs at his arm again.

“You can take it out if you want,” he says, ducking his head so he’s speaking low in Sebastian’s ear.

Sebastian’s heart leaps in his chest. He tries to take a calming breath, unsure he’s hearing what he’s really hearing.

“Okay,” he says softly. Chris adjusts at his side, his arm going slack so Sebastian can sit up more, his right side freed.

Sebastian reaches for Chris’ crotch with clammy hands, undoing the front button and pulling the zipper down. He pulls Chris’ hard dick out carefully through the opening. It’s big in his hands, even half-hard. He’s had enough experience with his own dick so that the feeling isn’t entirely new, but it still manages to be shockingly different. Chris is thicker and longer for one, a grown man’s cock that puts his own teen dick to shame. A thick vein lines the underside, and there’s a trimmed patch of brown hair at the base, then the full swell of his heavy balls.

“Go ahead,” Chris says, pulling Sebastian’s attention up. “Wrap your hand around it.”

Sebastian does, squeezing gently at the swollen flesh. Chris groans low in his throat. His eyes are fixed to Sebastian’s hand on him, attention finally pulled away from the television. Sebastian gives Chris’ dick a stroke, not too firm for the little lubrication they have, and Chris makes a low, _mmm_ sound.

A drop of wet beads at the tip.

“There you go,” Chris says, encouragingly. Then, “Wanna put your mouth on it?”

Sebastian’s never done it before, and he wouldn’t have thought he’d get to do it with someone like Chris, not in a million years, but that’s the last thing he’ll admit right now.

“Okay,” he says, instead, licking his lips nervously. He steadies Chris at the base with his hand and curls down. He licks once, carefully, at the head with the flat of his tongue.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Chris says, breathily.

Emboldened, Sebastian takes the head in his mouth, desperately pulling on the knowledge he’d gained from years of watching porn, and an estimation of what he’d want on his own dick, to try and not mess it up. He sucks on the head, the flat of his tongue pressing on the underside as he pulls up, and it must be good, because Chris lets out another low sound.

“Yeah, there you go,” he says. His big hand settles at the back of Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian does the same motion again, opening wider, bobbing his head down to take more of Chris inside his mouth.

“Oh, yeah,” Chris says, exhaling. His fingers go tight on Sebastian, then relax. Sebastian gasps a breath as he pulls up. The head and length are wet from Sebastian’s mouth now, the ruddy skin glistening slightly in the light.  

“Do it again, baby. Try and stay down a bit more, ‘kay?”

Sebastian’s ears burn at the endearment, but he nods his head quickly. He can hold his breath pretty long when he concentrates. The summer before he’d beat both Mark and Ben at the community pool, diving for quarters they’d tossed into the deep end. At the end he'd collected enough to buy two sodas and a bag of chips from the vending machines.

His lips stretch around Chris’ length as he takes him in again. It’s slightly uncomfortable this time, the weight of him pressing down on Sebastian’s tongue.

“Easy,” Chris says, his hand steady at Sebastian’s neck, so Sebastian lets himself pause to adjust, breathing hard through his nose. Chris tugs at his balls with his other hand.

Chris is breathing faster, visibly suppressing the jerk of his hips upwards. He tastes good in Sebastian’s mouth, hot and firm and slightly salty with sweat. A musky, intimate manly scent fills Sebastian’s nose as he tries to press down and makes the blood thump in his head. Sebastian draws up for a quick breath, face hot. His eyes feel wet.

He gives Chris a quick stroke from base to tip as he catches his breath. It pulses out a wad of precome as he squeezes towards the head, flushed red.

Chris groans. His hand presses down on Sebastian’s neck.

“Come on, don’t tease,” he says.

“Sorry,” Sebastian breathes out quickly, a lance of guilt making him wince. He hadn’t realized he’d been doing that, and the last thing he wants to do is make Chris think he’s just leading him on.

He curls down to take Chris in again, stopping when he feels like he really can’t go any further. He swallows awkwardly around Chris’ thick flesh, but drool still manages to escape, slipping under his fingers as he strokes the base of Chris’ dick.

“Right there - _oh shit_ ,” Chris grits out. He moans, hips twisting, and his dick jerks in Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian sucks and bobs his head and strokes the base as Chris spills in his mouth. He chokes around the wet and pulls off, hand a blur of movement as Chris continues to come. It's more than Sebastian's ever pulled from his own dick, thick white stripes of it that coat his hand and Chris' cock.

Then Chris is breathing hard and coming down, and pushing at Sebastian’s shoulder so he lets Chris go.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says, his voice wet. Chris’ chest is still heaving. His face is red, mouth open so he can breathe.

“It’s okay,” he says after a pause, words coming out slurry. He sits up and kisses Sebastian again, pushing at Sebastian’s chest with one hand so he settles back on the sofa.

Chris lies down next to him, propping himself on his elbow so he’s on his side.

“That was really good. You’re a natural,” Chris says. He pushes back at Sebastian’s hair gently, sweeping it away from his forehead.

“Thanks,” Sebastian mumbles. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

Chris smiles and leans down to press his lips against Sebastian’s, much softer and gentler than before, no push or rush. A hand squeezes at Sebastian’s side, moving to knead at the swell of Sebastian’s stomach.

“Soft,” Chris mutters against Sebastian’s lips.

“I’m not – ” Sebastian says, in a small voice. He feels like apologizing, strangely.

“You’re not what?” Chris asks.

“I’m not – built - like you,” Sebastian chokes out.    

Chris muffles a laugh against the side of Sebastian’s jaw. He kisses at the corner of his lips.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mutters. His hand moves up and he squeezes at Sebastian’s chest, which yields easily to Chris’ firm hand. “I like you like this.”

Sebastian flushes. He’s gotten achingly hard in the interim, his dick jutting out at his crotch in a stiff little bump. Chris notices, eyes flicking down then back up. He smiles slowly, and his hand slides down. He massages at Sebastian’s dick. Sebastian gasps and squirms against him, one hand clutching at Chris’ shoulder.

Chris slides his hand deftly into Sebastian’s shorts, and gives Sebastian's cock a few, firm strokes with his big hand. He feels for Sebastian’s balls and rolls them gently, easily fitting into the palm of his hand, the sensation sending electric shocks of pleasure jolting through Sebastian’s groin. They swell and pull up tighter, and Chris goes back to jerking him off. Chris pauses to push the waistband of Sebastian’s shorts down under his balls, exposing him.

Sebastian looks down, lips parting, watching the tip of his flushed, pink cock appear and disappear in Chris’ practiced grip.

“Cute,” Chris mumbles against Sebastian’s lips. Sebastian’s breathing too hard to properly reciprocate the kiss. His gut pulls tighter and tighter, his orgasm rushing towards him.

“ _Chris_ ,” Sebastian says weakly, legs falling open wider.

“Gimme that little load. Come on, buddy,” Chris says. Chris’ hand leaves Sebastian’s dick waving stiff and helpless in the air, to tug gently at Sebastian’s swollen balls so he cries out suddenly, hips jerking as he comes.

Then Chris squeezes out the last few spurts with his tight grip, milking the rest out as Sebastian shakes through the aftershocks.

*

Chris drops him off afterwards. Sebastian makes him stop a block away from the house and walks the rest, eschewing giving reason for his mother to raise questions about any new friends. He doesn’t even know if he and Chris count as friends, doesn’t know where they stand other than the fact that some insanely hot guy wants to touch his dick and have Sebastian touch him and if that’s as far as he’ll get he can die happy.

He makes up his mind to ask Chris when he next sees him, and even leaves the house to jog around the hiking trail which meanders through the park for the first time in months, both Saturday and Sunday afternoon. He pauses occasionally to catch his breath near the exercise stations on the trail and follows the instructions on the adjacent signs, stopping only when he feels what few muscles he has have gone to jelly. He scans the park for dogs and their owners, but none of the ones he spots is Chris.

On his way home Sebastian stops at a drugstore, and buys a small bottle of lube. He gets a bunch of other crap too, thinking he can obscure its presence among the extra items, and not look like a total perv. He slips the bottle from the plastic shopping bag on his way out and sticks it in his pocket, where it burns a hole through the cloth all the way home.

Sebastian slips into bed that night freshly showered, and reaches for the lube. It’s slow going at first until he manages to curl his finger in just right, then it's like all his muscles are seizing up and flushing hot under his skin, and his balls grip up tight, and his hard dick blurts out precome in a steady stream as he presses and presses against that spot inside. He imagines Chris doing it to him and that’s all it takes, then he’s gritting back a fevered moan as he comes.

On Monday he doesn’t see Chris until lunch, and only then after he spends ten minutes with Mark and Ben following after him as he searches the courtyard outside of the cafeteria.

He finds Chris amongst a motley gathering of seniors, huddling around a brick wall near the art building. Mark and Ben hang back. A guy Sebastian recognizes from the football team stares at him with dark eyes as he approaches. He has jet black hair, perfectly combed back, and an arm around a redhead who’s turned away, laughing at something within the group.

“Hey, who’s this guy,” the dark-haired guy calls out as Sebastian approaches, pointing with the hand resting on the redhead’s shoulders.

“Uh, hi,” Sebastian says. His voice sounds weak, even to his own ears, as everyone shifts to look his way. He looks at Chris, who’s still laughing as he turns towards him. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Hold up,” a second guy to Chris’ left says. “Talk to who? Do we know you?”

Sebastian feels his face heat up. He stares at Chris who stares back at him, expression blank, like he’s never seen Sebastian before in his life. Sebastian feels his stomach drop to his feet. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Hello, earth to Doug,” the second guy says, waving his hand in Sebastian’s face.

“I got this, gimme a sec,” Chris says finally. He shoves off the wall and takes Sebastian by the arm, steering him away from the group.

“What is it,” he says tersely, when they’re a few feet away. He voice is low. He folds his arms in front of his chest.

Sebastian blinks up at him, at a loss, unable to even explain to himself what he’d been planning to say or do.

“I just wanted to - I thought - ” Sebastian says. He can see Mark and Ben shuffling anxiously to the side, waiting on him.

Chris seems to relent slightly. His arms fall down.

“Listen, I’ll meet you after school if you wanna talk, okay? Just don’t come up to us again.”

“Okay,” Sebastian says, blinking quickly.

“Cool,” Chris says, relief heavy in this voice. He pats Sebastian’s shoulder awkwardly once and walks off. The redhead asks something in a low monotone as he returns that Sebastian can’t quite make out. “Nah, just some kid,” Chris replies, and the rest is lost as Sebastian quickly walks further and further away, his throat tight and face burning.

*

Despite his misgivings, Sebastian waits by the front parking lot after school. He’s had enough time to rationalize it through the hours after lunch. Clearly, it was ridiculous he’d assumed that just because they’d hooked up, that meant they were suddenly hanging out everywhere else, that Sebastian now had some claim to Chris’ friends as well. He could see how weird that was, and how embarrassing, and maybe this was something that just didn’t transcend the unyielding boundaries of their social circles. Maybe Chris hadn’t even planned on seeing him again. Which was cool, he tells himself, ‘cause that’s how everyone probably did it; you could hook up with someone without expecting anything beyond just that. It was the _mature_ thing to do.

He paces up and down the sidewalk for a while as the initial crowd of cars thins out and the parking lot empties. Soon the sound of the marching band practicing in the football field starts up, cymbals crashing over the brass cacophony. When an hour has passed he walks back to the front steps and sits, scanning the distance for Chris’ car. He waits past the time he’d usually leave on the days he has to stay afterwards for a project. The band winds down after another hour and Sebastian grabs his bag, scrambling down the steps before anyone sees him.

*

The doorbell rings on a Sunday a week later. Sebastian’s mom is visiting her sister a state away, so he’s had the house to himself for the weekend.

Chris looks up at him from the bottom step when he opens the front door. He smiles sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck. Sebastian had been lucky for the most part, he’d only seen Chris in the distance at school, far enough away to give him the chance to prevent their paths from crossing, terrified of repeating the same experience in front of Chris' friends.

“Hi,” Chris says.

“Hey.”

There’s a pause where neither of them speak.

“Can I come in?” Chris asks, finally. He glances behind Sebastian.

Sebastian opens his mouth to say something else, but Chris takes the few steps up to the patio slowly, and Sebastian’s stomach does a little flip. He’s still stupidly, fresh-out-of-a-photoshoot, handsome, in an expensive black bomber jacket, dark jeans, and a simple white tee, with a light scruff going like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. He makes the completed outfit look like it costs more than Sebastian’s mother’s car. The weight of his attention on Sebastian feels as intense as a physical force, honing in on him like he’s been plastered to a slide and slipped under a microscope.

Chris waves off an offered drink in the living room. His eyes skate over the interior of the house. There are throw pillows on the floor where Sebastian had been eating Cheetos and watching made for TV movies. The bag’s still open at the foot of the couch.

They find their way to Sebastian’s room, where Sebastian sits on the bed and watches Chris move around the small space, leaning down to peer at old soccer trophies and photographs wedged into the sides of the vanity mirror.

“Nice digs,” Chris says, finally, turning back to Sebastian.

“Thanks,” Sebastian says. He scuffs a toe into the rug below him, kicking his heel up and down.

“Listen,” Chris says. Sebastian looks up. Chris’ face is furrowed into a picture of remorse. “I’m sorry about what happened the last time we - you know. I thought about it later and I acted like a total ass.”

“It’s fine,” Sebastian says, shrugging. He’s proud of how calm he sounds, suddenly sure he's as cool as one of Chris’ friends, like this was something he did all the time. He even feels magnanimous enough in that moment to forgive Chris bailing on their agreed meetup, certain that something else must have come up, and if Chris wasn’t mentioning it it wasn’t important enough for Sebastian neither.   

“Yeah?” Chris asks, grinning. He slides his fingers through his hair and takes the few steps to stand before Sebastian.

“Yeah,” Sebastian answers.

“Thanks, man,” Chris says, looking down.

Sebastian swallows nervously. His face is level with the flat expanse of Chris’ stomach. He has to lean back to keep eye contact.

“Can I?” Chris indicates the space next to Sebastian on the bed.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says.

Chris takes a seat next to him, splaying his legs out so his hard thigh presses against Sebastian. He curls a big hand over Sebastian’s upper thigh. Sebastian feels his pulse race. He can feel Chris’ body heat all along his side.

“I really missed you,” Chris says quietly.

He gives Sebastian’s soft thigh a squeeze. Sebastian stares down, tracing the line of a vein in the back of Chris’ hand with his eyes. His heart is thumping in his chest. He looks up and Chris is watching him. Then his hand leaves Sebastian’s thigh and he’s leaning down and kissing him, a soft, slow press of lips.

“Wanna touch you,” Chris says.

“Okay,” Sebastian replies, breathlessly. He’s leaning back as Chris is leaning forward, until he’s flat on his back in the bed and Chris is curled over him. Chris’ hand slides down unceremoniously. He pulls Sebastian’s pants off one-handed, Sebastian shifting below to help him, then Chris cups Sebastian’s dick in his hand, squeezing it into firmness. Sebastian grasps at Chris’ broad shoulders and opens his legs wide.

Then he gasps, a weak _oh_ sound escaping as Chris’ hand ducks below his balls and his fingers find Sebastian’s hole. He just presses the flat of two fingers against Sebastian’s entrance as he kisses him, Sebastian bucking into the feeling, a sure little ache starting up inside him.

“That’s sweet,” Chris murmurs, “you got something, babe?”

It takes Sebastian a second to realize what he’s referring to.

“Yeah, in the drawer,” he says, pointing behind Chris. His brain scrambles to catch up but he feels like he’s been dipped into a dream, everything fogged up in surreality.

Chris stands to shove his jeans down and remove the rest of his clothing. He crawls back into bed between Sebastian’s legs. His body’s in perfect, stunning shape. Sebastian tugs his shirt down to cover his stomach, and watches as Chris slicks up his fingers with lube in an expert motion, tossing the bottle to the side of the mattress when he’s done.

Chris' dick bobs hard and thick between his legs. Sebastian feels weak inside just looking at it.

Chris takes himself in hand and slicks up.

“Think you can take this?” he asks.

“Yeah, I can take it,” Sebastian answers, quickly.

Chris grins.

“Pull your legs up,” he says, hand still moving at his cock in lazy strokes. Sebastian fumbles at first, then fits his hands in below his knees and pulls them closer to his chest, his own dick pressing against his belly. The motion lifts his hips off the bed slightly and exposes his hole. Then Chris is curling over him and pressing his dick to Sebastian’s entrance.

He grips one big hand at the back of Sebastian’s thigh and presses slowly in, opening Sebastian up with his dick, impossibly wide and thick.

“Oh, oh,” Sebastian lets out weakly. His lips part and he stares down at Chris’ strong body, the muscles that ripple in Chris' tight stomach. Chris pushes at the hem of Sebastian’s shirt and grips at his soft stomach, molding it under his hand, rubbing his thumb against Sebastian’s skin. His chin is tucked down, eyes riveted to where their bodies join.

“Yeah, man. Look at that,” Chris breathes out. They both watch as he sinks slowly inside, Sebastian’s hole stretching wide to accommodate him. Chris is thick enough that he presses effortlessly against that aching spot inside Sebastian, pleasure emanating from the fullness so Sebastian nearly feels it at the back of his throat. He breathes weakly through his nose, clutching down around the fullness so his own dick jerks and leaks, his balls gripping up tight.

Chris starts moving, fucking into Sebastian in long, thorough thrusts that stroke deep up his soft insides.

“There you go. Come on, come on,” Chris keeps saying as he slams his hips against Sebastian. An almost unbearable tightness curls low in Sebastian’s gut, building with every push until his ass clenches down and he cries out and comes in pulses. His dick jerks and waves, spurting wet. Chris moves through it, then sinks in with one final thrust and groans low in his throat, shooting off inside Sebastian. Sebastian can feel it through the daze of his own orgasm, the wet heat coating his insides, so much that it spills out around the wet of his pulsing entrance.

“Yeah, you can take it, you’re a pro.” Chris breathes out. “Gonna feel it for days in that soft ass.”

He grinds against Sebastian, dick squelching against his sloppy hole. Then he leans down and kisses Sebastian until he’s breathless, mumbling endearments against his mouth.

*

Sebastian feels achy and empty as soon as Chris pulls out. He puts a careful finger to his hole once Chris disappears inside the bathroom, feeling at his puffy, sore entrance. He pulls his hand away as Chris steps back into the room. Chris is still completely naked, and unselfconscious of the fact as he steps towards the bed.

Sebastian pulls his discarded pants over his front. Chris’ eyes land on him then slide away. He’s looking for his clothes, stepping into his jeans.

“Hey,” Sebastian says.

“What’s up,” Chris replies. He’s moving with intent, and it makes Sebastian sit up.

“Wanna order a pizza or something?”

“Nah,” Chris says, pulling his jeans up to his slim hips and buttoning the front. He offers Sebastian a quick smile. “Think I oughta go.”

“You can stay,” Sebastian says. An expression flickers quickly over Chris’ features. “I mean, if you don’t have to be somewhere.”

“You know what. I gotta be somewhere,” Chris says. He makes an exaggerated, wincing expression, pulling his shirt overhead. Then it clears like a passing cloud. “But thanks, man.”

Sebastian blinks at him.

“Okay.”

“Nice,” Chris says. He finishes dressing, giving his reflection a quick once-over in the vanity mirror. He pauses with one hand at the door.

“You’re a cool guy, you know that?”

“Thanks,” Sebastian says, slowly.

Chris grins, a brief flash of white, as dazzlingly sincere as the first time Sebastian saw him.

“Alright, man,” Chris says.

The door shuts behind him.

*

**Author's Note:**

> ay yo,,,sim,,,,my #sinspiration,,,this one's for you


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